Erotic life

Relationships are often strained by disagreements over what's fair in the bedroom - women want quality, men want quantity. Sex isn't an entitlement in a relationship. For men who want more frequent sex the formula is simple: be respectful and become the lover your partner longs for. If you can't be bothered then quit your bitching!

While I’m on questions I consistently get asked (see Virginity and other disappointments), there is another fairly personal In the bedroom question that keeps raising its nosey head. It’s a question that no one would dare ask under usual circumstances (unless they were a very close friend or really drunk or both).

Imagine this. You are talking to someone who is an acquaintance and, after listening to a short synopsis about your new book, they lean in close to your ear and whisper – ‘So, is that how you lost your virginity?’

I found this a tough and compelling read, and I'm still grappling with mixed feelings about it. Not Your Ordinary Housewife is a gruelling, and funny, and shocking, and, at its heart, a tragic love story. Nikki was once one of Australia's foremost porn queen's, loved and revered by thousands of men who wrote her intimate letters, swooned over her raunchy photos and videos, and masturbated endlessly to the fragrance of her used underwear.

There must be something wrong with me. I don’t go squeamish when I hear the word ‘vagina’. Or any of the other anatomical references to female genitalia (vulva, labia, clitoris etc etc). Nor do I feel in any way shocked or offended when the words penis, testes or glans fall into a conversation (in context). But apparently I am an exception.

I’ve discovered a website/blog that makes me think I should just shut up shop and go home. Masterminded by Jane, who lives in a quintessential flowery English cottage where a Laura Ashley bomb went off, the blog everything I was aiming to do with Ecstasy Files but with taste (never been my strong point).

So Valentines day is over. Did you survive it? Are you suffering from a 'love hangover' - you know, too many chocolates and kisses? Or was it just another day to remind you that hearts and flowers are for schmaltzy cards and not real life?

Since I hit the big '40' I've avoided any references to my age. When asked I simply reply 'I'm on the wrong side of 40.' It gets a laugh and stops any further enquiries dead in their tracks. Why? Because I liked being young. Youth made me feel desirable and fit and ready for romance whenever it came along. As age has crept up on me I've tried to hold on to that carefree sexual confidence that came with being twenty something and stubbornly refused to look (or, some would argue, act) my age.

There are many great G's in life. 'The G' - a fond reference to the famous Melbourne Cricket Ground - and the G-spot - another fond reference to a highly sought after (and some would say imaginary) party spot in a woman's body - but today I want to celebrate a not so talked about G - the humble G-string.

I’m so tired of the Christmas clichés, aren’t you? In reality, for many, December is damned stressful, brimming with high expectations, exhaustion and disappointment. The festive season is supposed to be about pleasure, but we’re often so worried about getting it right or making sure we meet everyone’s needs, we forget to really enjoy it.